They say she had
lips as red
as roses,
to speak with life
to speak with love
to speak with a full, red heart,
eyes as bright
as stars,
to see the light
to shine the light
to connect earth and sky,
hair as dark
as ravens,
to fly above
to soar through night
to love the black river,
and skin as white
as snow,
to remind us of
the strength
of the rose.
There is only
good news now.
The leaf touched by
dawn’s grace.
The wildflowers
bright again,
bees breaking
into buzz
after the sleepy
silence of night.
Now the colours are
yellow, gold, green,
pink, purple and blue,
a meadow of colours
dreamt and undreamt.
Look close at the
curve of bee
on a papery petal.
Let the perfume
of wild rose
paint you in pink.
Step aside
from night’s
tangle-eyed
shadows
of black
and grey.
Enter the meadow
of clear colour
in sunlight.
There is only
good news here.
I stretch
outside
feet soft
on grass
roots grow
deeper.
My fingers,
leaves in
blue sky.
I am imperfect
my thoughts
don’t make sense
my heart
rebels sometimes
I don’t know
how to
love
perfectly
breathe
perfectly.
All the blades
of green life
beneath my feet
are different –
in none is there
symmetry.
I am green,
growing
and my roots
are deep
in this nourishing
earth.
I love
I love
I love
The rose
a mess of petals
shines beauty in all directions
Who would name
the rose a mess?
A pink and hopeful
scattering of petals
not quite the same
as the rest.
Here a chill dwarfed a leaf
there a bee misstepped.
We scrape past thorns
to find one bloom
not quite the same
as the rest.
There is a slow opening
a fragrance startling
eyebrows lifted
a simple truth
in a chaos of leaves
one golden flower
hidden by tangles.
Bramble-scratched
and shivering we
were led by its
fragrance to find
a bloom more
precious than
a baby’s first breath
a gold ring slipped
over a finger or
the spring, and the first
strong ray of sun
higher and sweeter
than any other.
Inky Cat's Poems 